COLD COMFORT: MISSING SCENES
by Patcat
Summary: What happened


COLD COMFORT: MISSING SCENES

After everything was over, after Spencer Durning was walked away and a baffled Nicholas Durning was helped out of the squad room by some official who worked for his family's foundation, and after Carver and Deakins were placated, Bobby disappeared. Alex Eames had a good idea where and why he'd gone. He was a master at interrogation, but that didn't mean that he liked it, especially when it involved forcing a man with a terrible illness to confront the truth about his illness and his murderous, manipulative father. Alex knew that many NYPD cops thought Bobby was cold blooded or, worse, so far gone that he didn't care about anything but the case. And some thought he was just crazy. Of course they had never seen Bobby sitting in an empty interrogation or interview room after a session with a perp or witness. They'd never seen him with his head in his hands or drinking a Scotch. They'd never made sure he got home because if he'd got on the subway he might ride it all night until it was time to return to Major Case or ride it to the end of the line and then get off and never come back. The same qualities that allowed Bobby to get inside people's heads often allowed them to get inside his. His fortifications against bad guys were fairly strong, but less effective against witnesses and perps. And sometimes he seemed to willingly open the doors to even the bad guys.

Alex delivered their first reports to Deakins, who looked as tired as she felt. "I'll look at these tomorrow," the Captain said. "I wouldn't do them justice right now. You and Goren get out of here."

"Yes, Sir," Alex replied. "I'll let Bobby know."

Telling Bobby required finding Bobby. He wasn't in any of the interrogation or interview rooms. Alex reached into her desk for the key to the One Police Plaza roof. She'd first found Bobby on the roof after what she thought was a successful case. One of the janitorial workers, most of whom adored Bobby because he spoke so kindly to them and treated them so well, slipped her a key to the roof and told her Detective Goren often fled there when he wanted to be alone. She'd expected to find a man enjoying his triumph, but instead discovered Bobby standing near the roof's edge and staring down into the street. He'd taken a young woman into a very dark place in order to get a confession that trapped her boyfriend. Alex thought she'd gotten what she deserved, but Bobby Goren was clearly a different kind of detective. Over the next few months, Alex learned Bobby Goren's definition of a successful case was different from that of most detectives and that he frequented the roof after what he saw as the worst ones.

Alex opened the door to the roof and shivered when the bitter wind hit her. "Good thing I remembered my coat," she thought. "I wonder if Bobby remembered his…If he's up here…"

She scanned the rooftop. There weren't many places to hide, and she saw him.

He'd forgotten his coat, and he made an oddly vulnerable and lonely figure in the weirdly angled light on the roof. He half sat, half leaned against one of those knee high metal boxes that dot many roofs. Alex had never been quite sure what they were for. For Bobby's sake, and her own, she hoped it was some kind of heating vent. She pulled her gloves from her pocket and slipped them on as she walked to him. She wished that she'd brought her hat. The wind sent sharp needles into her unprotected head and face, and some of them managed to pierce the heavy wool of her coat. She could only imagine how cold Bobby was. He huddled against the cold, his arms wrapped around him. His breath created a heavy cloud. He stared out over the streets and buildings.

"Hey," Alex said gently.

He didn't seem to hear her.

"It's a beautiful sight," she said, walking up beside him. "But it's awfully cold."

He continued to stare, but Alex thought he wasn't seeing what was in front of him.

"Deakins got our reports. He said we could go home. I'm thinking about just grabbing a few hours of sleep in the crib. By the time I get home I'll just have to drive back here."

Bobby shivered.

"C'mon, Bobby," Alex said. "You stay up here, you're going to get pneumonia…If you don't freeze to death first."

"Freezing to death," he said. "It's not supposed to be such a horrible way to die. At least after the first few minutes. Apparently you just get very sleepy and drift away. It's certainly better than knowing your brain is turning to mush and you're going to forget everyone and everything you've ever known."

"Bobby…It's not your fault Nick Durning has early Alzheimer's. It's not your fault he has a lousy father."

"I wonder if I did him a favor," Bobby said. "Letting him know what he's in for. His father at least protected and cared for him."

"And used him," Alex snorted. "I wonder how much Nick's fiancé knew…"

Bobby winced. "Spencer Durning is ruthless and selfish enough…" He looked at Alex for the first time since she'd joined him on the roof. "You're cold…I'm sorry, Eames…"

"At least I have my coat on," Alex replied. "C'mon…You can buy me a cup of coffee or some hot chocolate for making me come out in this cold." She knew that approaching Bobby's care for others worked better than appealing to his taking care of himself.

"Ok…" He straightened and blew on his hands. "You're right…It's too cold to be out…Are…Are there a lot of people left in the squad room?"

"No," Alex answered. "Nearly everyone is gone."

Bobby nodded and followed her to the stairwell door. "Hey," he said as they descended to the eleventh floor. "How'd you get an access key to the roof?"

"You're not the only one who can charm the staff that has the keys," Alex answered. She was happy to see a smile cross his face.

"If the Brass ever finds out how many people…" Bobby shook his head.

They stopped at Major Case only long enough for Bobby to grab his coat and binder. They moved quickly out of the building and into a diner without encountering anyone. The slim, doe-eyed waitress who knew them smiled as she took their orders.

"Hello, detectives? Working on or finishing up a case?" she asked.

"Finishing," Alex said.

"Then it's hot chocolate," the waitress said.

"Yea, Graciela," Bobby said. "How's school?"

"School is good," Graciela said. "By this time next year I'll be a LN. And a year after that I should be a RN."

"We'll miss you," Alex said.

"Don't worry," Graciela smiled. "I'll be around for a while. And I'll train my younger sister to know how to deal with you."

"I wonder," Alex said as she sipped her hot chocolate. "How many regular meals at regular times I've had since I came to Major Case…And even before that…"

"Yea…I don't know if I've ever had regular meals…" Bobby stared into his cup.

"Meals at the Eames house were pretty chaotic," Alex said cheerfully. "Six kids, my Dad's schedule…I don't know how my mom did it."

Bobby was very quiet, Alex thought that his definition of "chaotic" might be very different from hers.

"Do you think Spencer Durning will go to trial? And get convicted?" she asked.

"Yea…Someone in this conspiracy will break," Bobby said. "It doesn't really matter. The Durning Foundation is finished. It won't survive him. Even if Nick were to recover miraculously tomorrow, I can't imagine he'd want anything to do with his father and the foundation. And…well…"

"You can't depend on miracles," Alex said softly.

"Eames…" Bobby played with his spoon. "Tonight…With Nick…I…I…Was I too cruel?"

"Well, I was there too…And Deakins and Carver were in on it," Alex responded. "And you're not the one who lied to him."

"But…Maybe there was another way to catch Spencer Durning without…Without being so cruel to Nick…"

"Maybe he wants to do something else with his life in the time he has besides work for his father…Maybe he didn't want to leave a widow…Or a child with his illness…The gall of his father…Playing with all of those lives…This was not your fault, Bobby."

"I…I just…If there was another way…" Bobby murmured.

"Spencer Durning made you very angry," Alex said.

"People who use people make me very angry," Bobby said.

"Yea…But there seemed to be more to it than just that…"

"I…I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" Bobby asked. "I didn't let my feelings get in the way…"

"No," Alex said. She leaned forward across the table. "You were as good as you always are."

"It's just…The way he was using his son…He had all this wealth and power, and he used his son…I…I…" His hand found the paper napkin and began to shred it. "You've probably noticed…Bad fathers…"

"Your father give you a hard time?"

Bobby shut his eyes. He remembered all of the yelling and shouting, the slaps across his face and the belt straps on his back, the missed games and awards, and the times his father used or lied to him. He opened his eyes to see Alex studying him.

"Pity," he thought. "My partner pities me…" He fought off his swirling emotions.

"Oh," he said as casually as he could. "Maybe a little more than usual."

Alex watched with disappointment as Bobby shut the door he'd opened a little for her. She thought that nothing about his life was anything along the lines of the usual. She didn't feel that she had the energy to push any further.

"You're tired," Bobby said gently.

"Aren't you?"

"Yea…" he admitted. "The rush is over…You know that feeling?"

"When you solve a case…Yea…And the down after it's all over…" Alex said. "Yea…I know that."

"C'mon," Bobby said. "Let's get back and get a little sleep…"

The cold air blasted them s they left the diner. Alex didn't object when Bobby moved to try to shield her from the wind. They headed straight to the crib when they reached One Police Plaza. Whenever anyone—usually a male member of her family—argued that the NYPD was a better place for women, Alex would point out the still miserable state of facilities reserved for those of a female gender. Thanks to the few women among the ranks of the Brass, who were used to fighting for their own and others' rights, and the need for police headquarters to look good for the press and public, the women's locker room and crib at One PP were in decent shape. In comparison to those at other stations, they were downright luxurious. Alex frequently shuddered when she recalled the states of some she'd seen during her time in vice.

"I hope," Alex said. "The crib is warm."

"Or at least has plenty of blankets," Bobby said.

After brief stops in the respective bathrooms, Bobby and Alex met in the crib. Bobby looked terribly tired, and Alex wondered what force kept him upright.

"You know you're tired," she said. "When the beds in the crib look good to you."

"You want to chance sleeping in the bunk next to me?" Bobby asked.

"Well, I don't think you snore," Alex said. "Which is a good thing. If you did, you'd keep half of Manhattan awake."

Bobby smiled. He flopped on a bed that creaked in protest. "I don't think this mattress would pass a quality exam."

"I don't think mine would either," Alex said. "Good night, Bobby."

"Good night, Eames…And…Thank you…"

"For what?"

"For…For rescuing me from the roof…For …For everything…" He shrugged.

"You're welcome."

And for a few hours, they slept.

END


End file.
